His Mother's Son
by Nestrik
Summary: Magdelane Walker's POV. Please R&R I think its interesting. Well, I should cuz I wrote it. Anyway, just please read it. Thanks


"Daddy, wait.. Daddy." Daniel Walker ran up to his father who was walking through the cornfields. Jean Walker had had a broken mind since the First World War. It wasn't his fault he slapped me, Danny tried to console himself.  
  
Rafael "Rafe" McCawley stood where he had boarded Mr. Walker. He was glad that Danny loved his father, but Mr. Walker didn't have the right to hit him like that.  
  
"Rafe! Come here, honey. That's it. Danny'll be back from his little walk soon and then you guys can go back to the barn."  
  
Rafe thundered up the porch steps. "Did you see me fly, Mrs. Walker?"  
  
"Yes I did. Any day now you two'll be goin' off to train to be fighter pilots and leavin' me and your mommy behind." Magdalene Walker wiped her hands on her apron. She was a country woman, had been ever since she met Jean. She remembered Nashville, the big city, the ridiculous parties. Magdalene was something of a rebel. She had left her family for a farmer boy of French descent who had hardly a penny to his name. Magdalene smiled. It was the classic story.  
  
Rafe looked up at the woman with respect. Mrs. Walker had thick black ringlets that she usually kept in a ponytail, but little curls kept falling out. She had the look of a woman with pale skin who got sunburned for a while. The bridge of her nose and cheekbones were scattered with sun freckles.  
  
"You sure are pretty, Mrs. Walker," said Rafe, with all the boldness of a nine year old.  
  
"Ain't you a sweet boy. Your mothers lucky to have you. Look, here comes Danny back now," she continued. Danny ran, his dark, messy hair contrasting with his tanned skin.  
  
"There's my boy," Maggie said as Danny came up to her and Rafe. "Run along now, kids. I've got cookies baking." Maggie's eyes traveled to the figure walking across the simple wooden house towards her.  
  
"Sure thing, Mrs. Walker!" said Rafe excitedly, and Danny yelled, "Thanks, Mom!" as the two boys ran towards their little 'hangar.'  
  
Maggie went back inside to 'check' on her cookies, even though she knew they had ten minutes to go in the oven. She was like a tiger, waiting to pounce on Jean Walker the moment he stepped over the threshold.  
  
Jean walked into the house.  
  
"Don't you be trailin' mud all over my floor," Maggie said sharply, her back turned to him. She felt his hands on her shoulders and knew he was looking out the window, at Danny and Rafe playing in their wooden plane.  
  
She shrugged him off, not wanting to get all affectionate before she put him in his proper place. "Jean, you been different since the war," she said quietly. "You ain't got no right to hit my boy."  
  
"He's hangin' around with that stupid kid. And I saw, over there, things that no one should ever see. I saw-"  
  
"Don't give me that damned speech again, Jean. You still have no right to do what you did. And don't be stupid yourself, Jean, dyslexia ain't contagious. Maybe Danny can help Rafe. And when you say that about Rafe, you make me wanna slap you myself, Jean Walker." Maggie pushed a sweaty, sticky tendril of black curl back behind her ear as she opened the oven. The smell erupted from the stove like a bomb's cloud. "'Sides, Rafe is such a sweet kid. With parents like those two, I can't see how he ever turned out that way." Maggie sighed over her batch of cookies in sorrow for the little boy.  
  
The boy's sixth sense for sweets told them the cookies where done, but just for effect, Maggie walked out on the porch and yelled, "Cookies done, boys!"  
  
"Yeah!" came the identical cry as Rafe and Danny jumped out of their plane and hurried towards the house.  
  
  
  
"Daniel Walker, you are absolutely filthy! Go take a bath right this instant, or I won't let you play in that filthy plane anymore!"  
  
Both Danny and Maggie knew that that was an empty threat, but Danny obeyed his mother without the usual moanings and grumblings.  
  
Danny had tucked himself into bed. But he couldn't sleep. Danny tiptoed out of bed and listened at the doorway for the sound of his father's snores. When he heard them, spaced far apart, he dragged on his overalls and went to sit on the porch.  
  
A muffled noise came to his ears while he was in the kitchen, like someone was choking. No. The sound was crying.  
  
His mother was sitting in a chair with her head leaned on her elbows, which were against the porch railing, crying.  
  
Danny walked to her quietly. "Danny," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. She looked up. Maggie had put her hair out of its usual ponytail and let it down, loose.  
  
"Don't cry, Mama. Don't cry. Be strong, Mommy." Danny encircled his arms around his mother's thin shoulders.  
  
"Danny," his mother said, her voice kept in control. "You tell me if Jean ever hits you again."  
  
Jean. Momma never called him Jean. It was always, Daddy, or, Your Father.  
  
Danny was a little frightened and he stepped back from her, but he said, "Okay, Ma. I can't get to sleep."  
  
Maggie smiled at her son, standing there so awkwardly. "Sit down, and I'll tell you a story." She scooted over on the big chair to make room for her son.  
  
"There was once a big boy named Daniel," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "He was one of the greatest fighter pilots America had ever knew. He helped save countless American lives because he defended his country."  
  
She could feel Danny swell up a little with pride. Maggie continued.  
  
"But even better, he met a lovely girl."  
  
Maggie knew Danny wanted to have a family someday. He had so much love cooped up inside him. Danny wanted to be the father Jean had never been.  
  
"She was really pretty, with light skin, dark eyes, and.."  
  
"Brown or yellow hair," Danny supplied.  
  
"Alright, brown hair. Curly?"  
  
"No, straight."  
  
"Ok. One day, Danny took her on a date. They both fell in love, and then made me a grandma."  
  
Danny squirmed a little uncomfortably.  
  
"And they had a baby boy named.."  
  
"It was a baby girl, Mom, and her name will be Maggie." Danny loved his mother's name, not to mention his mother.  
  
"Alright, they had a baby girl named Maggie. And they lived happily ever after in Tennessee, and Daniel taught Maggie how to fly."  
  
"Girls can't fly planes, Mom."  
  
"Oh, shoo!" Maggie said, teasingly pushing Danny off her lap.  
  
  
  
About sixteen years later, Pearl Harbor was attacked. Maggie sat in front of the radio. Her eyes were dry, but the Rosary in her hands was knotted from her praying it over and over again.  
  
She finally put it down and reached for the pile of papers on the side table. Danny's letters to her. She pulled one out randomly and read.  
  
Dear Mother,  
  
Rafe is dead. He was shot down over England. He was assigned by Colonel Doolittle to join the Royal Air Force. Rafe told me that if he died, I should be the one to tell his girlfriend, Evelyn. And I did.  
  
Nothings ever gonna be the same, Ma. I miss Rafe so much.  
  
Pearl is the same. Nothings happening, so you don't have to worry.  
  
Danny  
  
Nothing's happening.  
  
It was a short letter, yes, but every mark was precious to Maggie. She might never see her son again.  
  
This was the last letter he had written her. Danny was her only son.  
  
Three hours and forty-five minutes later, at 11:50, Magdalene started to cry.  
  
  
  
April 25th was the day Maggie went to Hell and never came back. It was worse than death.  
  
She had lost her only son. Rafe had come all the way from Hawaii to tell her, with Evelyn, who was very pregnant. Maggie found the energy to smile a little later. "I thought you were gonna wait 'til you got married, Rafael McCawley."  
  
Rafe's face darkened, and Evelyn said quickly and quietly, "Its not Rafe's, Mrs. Walker. It's Danny's."  
  
Maggie didn't move a muscle for a few seconds, then fell into Rafe's arms, crying almost hysterically. The words, "I'm gonna be a grandma," were almost distinguishable through her sobs.  
  
A few months later, Evelyn gave both herself, Rafe, Maggie, and all of Daniel Walker's friends a memento to remember him by: a son named Daniel Walker. Walker, not McCawley. Rafe didn't have problems with that.  
  
Danny grew up in Tennessee, with his loving mother, foster father, and doting grandmother watching his every move. Maggie could swear she could feel Danny smile down at her, with those dark eyes crinkling at the corners. She knew Evelyn felt it to.  
  
Maggie looked at her grandson.  
  
Poor baby, Maggie thought, I'll raise you right. I won't raise you like your father, all scared and worried.. Don't worry; there will be no Jean to hurt you ever again.  
  
It was like getting a second chance to pour into Danny Jr. all the love she had never shown her own son. 


End file.
